


Better Had Than Lost

by GREATSHOW



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: 1940s, Closeted, Consequences, Drunkenness, F/F, Longing, Lost Love, Love at First Sight, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mystery, Smut, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 20:58:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14777136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GREATSHOW/pseuds/GREATSHOW
Summary: Kara Danvers had never interacted with her wealthy and mysterious next door neighbor, Lena Luthor. But she'd longed for her all the same. When a tragic loss results in a bereaved and dazed Lena venturing out into the Luthor's front yard, their paths collide, and Kara ponders if it was for the best...or a grave mistake.______________________________Gasping, Kara mustered all of her strength to step back and hold the woman's hands in hers. She released one hand to point a finger at the brunette as though she were scolding a stubborn child. "Now, listen here... I don't know what kind of person you think I am to ravish someone in the kind of state you're in, but I won't do it."A semi-frown, semi-smile graced Lena's features. "I have no clue as to what kind of person you are, blond stranger. You say that I'm drunk and lacking my senses, but I feel that neither is true. What I do know is I have longed for something I have denied myself for as long as I can remember. And with you here, I no longer see the need to do so. Whatever business you have outside this room will wait. I will have you."





	Better Had Than Lost

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Thanks for reading and commenting. You can find me on Tumblr at [greatshow1.tumblr.com](https://greatshow1.tumblr.com/).

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1940

 

Kara Danvers stared out the wide glass window in the living room of her meager home. She watched as a man drenched himself with water from a pouch as he jogged across the dead-like road in front of her yard. Baton Rouge, Louisiana had odd weather in February, she thought. One day, it was cold and dreary, and the next it was all warm and sunny. It reminded her of a dog she used to have. The mutt would want nothing to do with her one minute, casting cold eyes her way, and would show her absolute affection the next. That same mutt had run away a week ago, but it felt like a lifetime ago given her loneliness.  

At some points during the winter days, the telephone line, with its turbulent connection, would be useless. And the electricity would go out after that, leaving some without the means they needed. So the sunny atmosphere, despite being brutally hot, had its upsides.   

Outside, the sound she'd been expecting to hear roared and echoed off nearby houses — the sound of Winn Schott's 1939 Delahaye Type 165 Carbiolet. He was her best friend, and always made a point of dropping by on days like this solely to roar his engine and remind her to take chances. He was as rich as an oil company tycoon. And he reminded her every chance he got, with whatever car in his collection, that he didn't get what he had without taking chances. "Better had than lost," he'd often say about his automobiles, in the same way men said of women. For sure, the Delahaye was a beauty, but she had no use for such shiny and stylish material. Her 1933 Buick worked just fine. And so did the trolley cars she was used to riding on in other states.

Lifting up the hem of her old summer dress and sliding into her boots, she stepped outside to stare at him just as he hurried back inside the car like a school boy teasing her and then running away. "Later, Danvers!" he called back.

Kara rolled her eyes as the car sped down the street and as the neighborhood, if one could even call it that with its few sporadic houses spread out among trees, went silent again.

The sudden movement of gray between billowy trees in the distance to her left caught her attention. She moved to the end of her porch, and then through the jumble of trailing plants and azaleas to the short hedge that separated her property from that of her neighbor.

She had an inkling of who it was, but for the woman to be out wandering around after what recently happened? She stopped and watched as the wind blew against a tiny bell in a tree ahead and the angel-like figure moved to look up at it.  

It was definitely the woman, dressed in a thin gray nightgown and barefoot. Lena Luthor. She would always be able to identify the stunning brunette, just like she had five nights ago, when Lena had been running into the midnight air in the middle of the street screaming that her brother had shot himself. 

Kara stepped forward, hoping that she looked more calm and collected than confused. "Are you okay?"

The woman didn't answer her. It was almost like she didn't exist compared to the bell the attentive eyes before her were focused on.

Kara reached for her, touching her on the shoulder. "I asked if you were okay." 

Lena's untamed green eyes, which also appeared blue somehow, gazed past her to the shrubbery. "He's on the floor, in a pool of blood. Lex. I have to get him help," she said.

Kara's grip on her shoulder tightened. "Lex... He's gone."

Suddenly, those unfocused eyes were on her and appeared quite lucid. "Allow me to help Lex," she demanded, trying to break away from her grasp.

"Listen to me," Kara said, her voice raising. "Lex is dead. He's dead, and he isn't coming back."

Kara knew her words were harsh, but she didn't like seeing Lena like this. She saw too little of her already, and she'd be damned if she was going to let all of the light in the woman dim until it was but a memory.

Lena sniveled at her words. "You're wrong!" she shouted, covering her face with her hands as though refusing to face the truth. 

Kara swore and grabbed the woman by the hand, pulling her toward the Luthor family home. This time there was no protest as she held on. Where were the people to look after the brunette in such a trying time?   


Lena finally struggled against the pull, but gave up just as quickly. The woman must have been tired, because she leaned against Kara, content with their steady pace as they came upon the Chateauesque home.

Towering above them like a small castle, with the two cone-like, burgundy portions of the roof at opposite ends of each other, the house had a French elegance that wasn't commonly seen around these parts or the state as a whole. The entry doors, which were slightly open, were highlighted by gothic arches. 

Kara moved inside and used her free hand to close the door. Lena was still leaning against her and had taken to resting a head on her shoulder. She noticed that her boots and Lena's bare feet had tracked dirt all over the black and gray exotic rug. She stepped into the foyer and halted near the stairway. 

"Anyone here?" she called out.

No response came.

"You have housemaids, correct?" she asked, looking over her shoulder at Lena and slowly stepping away to stare at the brunette. The woman stared back at her with empty eyes.          

Kara guided her toward the downstairs hall. "Hello?" she called out again. The words echoed throughout.

Lena stepped back a little. "Too hot," she said slowly. Languidly.

The house was stuffy, Kara thought. With how warm it was already, a little past eight in the morning, and the room seeming like an oven just starting off at it lowest temperature, she wasn't surprised that Lena felt too hot. Still, she had to do something to relieve the brunette's discomfort. Lena was distressed and seemingly disoriented. She couldn't just drop her off here and leave.

Kara pulled Lena close to her and helped the woman ascend the winding stairway, more dirt from her boots being left behind with each step.       

At the top of the stairs, she saw a bedroom door left ajar. She moved with Lena into the room and carefully relaxed her on the medium-sized sofa. The brunette cooed softly and turned on her side with her eyes closed.

Maybe Lena needed a wet towel on her brow to make her feel better. Or at least open windows. Kara moved to the two windows in the room to do just that.

Or maybe the woman needed a cool bath. Kara went in search of one of those too.  

She located an adjoining one. It had light paneling and mirrors showing the silver lion figures of the tub. Kara eased out of her shoes, as to not dirty the beige rug. She smiled briefly at the smell of ivory and citrus filtering throughout the bath area, and twisted the lion handles, turning the water on. A stream flowed brilliantly, as though it was a tiny waterfall, as liquid slowly filled the quartzite sides of the tub.   

As the tub filled, Kara went to get Lena. The brunette was still in the same position, sweat now marking her brow. Her brow also appeared to be furrowed with worry. Kara decided right then and there that she didn't like seeing Lena Luthor's features marked with such unrest.

"If you take a bath, it should make you feel better," she said.

Lena's eyes sprung open, like they were never heavy with sleep to begin with, and she got up and moved to the bath without a single word. Kara moved after and turned the water off. She made sure that it was warm, having considered that a cold bath wasn't as pleasant. Once Lena's wet skin hit the cool air coming in from the windows, that would help with relief.

Kara exited the bathroom and left Lena to her own devices, not bothering to close the door. She moved to open one of the windows wider, listening for sounds from the bath. A splash here and there indicated that Lena was at least attempting to do as she'd suggested.

Kara wondered if her choice to move into a house beside Lex Luthor's mansion, likely just one of his mansions, two years ago had been misguided. But once seeing Lena standing on a terrace while she was being shown around by Winn, she'd taken the deal. And at that moment, there was no place she had wanted to be more. The rumors about Lena having an incestuous affair with her brother, while others said they were simply close, weren't enough to deter her. Neither were the rumors of Lena being cold-hearted and unscrupulous. And neither was the fact that Lena had never noticed her. Kara had just wanted, needed, to be close to the woman. She'd been with women in the past, and it was unlikely she'd ever be with Lena, since finding women who shared her sexual inclination was rare, but it didn't matter. For her now, Lena was the woman she longed for. The woman others could never measure up to.    

She knew, however, that Lena was no innocent. Whatever her relationship with her brother, the woman had apparently had him killed. Kara believed in seeing the good in everyone. But, when on a stroll through one of the long dirt roads, she'd spotted Lena talking with a big, burly, suspicious looking-man the night of Lex's death. That same man had fled the scene of the incident, or crime, as Lena had called out into the street and neighbors had gathered around to assess the woman's distress. Was there any reason to believe in Lena's innocence when she didn't know her, and even after she'd witnessed that? Kara's heart hoped that there was, but her logical mind also begged her to forgo the sentimental.

She moved to the large dresser in the room. Lena would need clothes after the bath, something comfortable. She looked through the gowns. Judging by the wardrobe and the terrace to her left, it seemed she had picked the right room after all. Unless, of course, the brunette had more than one room in the place.

Clutching a lavender gown and matching robe in her hand, she stopped after catching a glimpse of the center table. She saw an expensive-looking wine bottle with five glasses sloppily placed around it. The bottle was nearly gone, and the glasses had remnants of alcohol, indicating their use. Had this been why Lena was acting so oddly? Was the woman drunk? 

She looked toward the bathroom door, listening for any movement. There was none. She looked back to the table. If Lena had drank that much, then the brunette wasn't in her right mind. And the woman was also vulnerable to falling asleep in the bathtub. Kara's heart pounded loudly in her chest at the thought.

She raced to the bathroom and came upon Lena buried nose deep, her hair spread out around her like she was a floating angel. Kara groaned, dropping the gown and robe to the floor, and pulling her out.

Lena wasn't moving. Kara placed the woman on the ground in a kneeling position, doing her best to hold on to her wet skin as she bent the brunette forward and slapped her repeatedly on the back. "Breathe!" she yelled.

She squeezed at Lena's waist, trying to force the water from her lungs. She didn't know much of anything about what to do in such a case, but she knew Lena hadn't been under the water for long. So there was a good chance the brunette would be okay. "Breathe!" she demanded again. 

She was upset with Lena. Why would anyone allow themselves to get so intoxicated that they would wander out outside, confused and spewing nonsense, and later almost drown? Was it to numb the pain of her brother's death? The fact that he'd been gunned down on her orders?

Abruptly, Lena coughed and water spurted from her mouth. Kara helped her clear her lungs, squeezing her hard and upward around the waist and then patting her repeatedly on the back. So much water exited from her mouth onto the floor that Kara pondered if the woman had been but a moment away from death.

Kara helped her with each cough, with each gurgle of fluid. Once her lungs had expelled all they could expel, Lena stared up at her angrily.

Kara gave the brunette an angry glare of her own. "Did you want to die or something?"

Lena's eyes dropped, and her response came out low: "I didn't."

Kara covered her with the robe, but she wouldn't let her go. She held Lena and stroked her hair, for as long as the woman needed holding and stroking to feel safe.

* * *

 

It was nearly thirty minutes later when Kara sat on the edge of Lena's bed. She stared down at the brunette now donning the thin, lavender gown she'd given her. Kara's eyes traveled over her delicate form and pale face.

The brunette was holding on to Kara's hand. "You look strong," she whispered. "I wish I could be strong."

The way Lena said it pained Kara's heart. Kara was tan, with long, wavy blond hair. Her eyes were as blue as the ocean, but had hints of mirth as though she was the cheeriest person alive. She'd been told this. The glasses she occasionally wore only helped to add to her non-threatening appearance. The tiny scar on her forehead signaled that she hadn't lived as dainty a life as some other women, but it was always softened by her aforementioned gleeful eyes and warm smile. Yes, she was strong, but she hardly looked it.

Lena's grip loosened on her hand, and light fingers trailed back and forth over her arm. Kara felt her throat constrict and an odd sensation flutter in her chest. "You're okay now? No longer hot?" she asked.

"No longer...hot," came a hesitant reply.

She could feel the weight of Lena's searching eyes as they looked into hers. They were eyes meant to stop one in their tracks, allure, tame. They made Kara want to get lost in them and hold Lena close. But Lena had just been through a life-threatening ordeal, and the woman hadn't been thinking clearly. They were also strangers. It wouldn't make sense to hold her again.

She stood abruptly. She should leave. She moved to the terrace, suddenly needing a lot of fresh air. She looked upon the neat yard, the flower garden a little off to the left. The wind swept toward her, filling her nostrils and entering her lungs like a lifeline before exiting again and leaving her spiraling.

Before she could get used to the ebb and flow, she heard footsteps behind her. She sighed. "You should rest," she said.

No response came.

Frustratedly, she spun around. And she didn't mean to, but her gaze landed on Lena's slender legs, the dark patch of hair between pale thighs showing beneath the sheer gown, the firm breasts peeping out from that barely-there gown. She really should have chosen a different gown. But Lena stood there staring, light eyes meeting light eyes, as if nothing had happened almost forty minutes ago. As is offering herself to whichever person was willing to love her. The woman's lascivious gaze and stance left no doubt.

This couldn't be real. Had Lena forgotten that she was a woman? Was it that Kara being a woman simply didn't matter? Lena wanted any warm body right here and right now? Kara had heard that women in grief — those who'd just lost a loved one — would sometimes seek men for comfort, but this was her first time witnessing it, or something like it anyhow.

Suddenly, Lena was in front of her. The woman's hands slid along her arms, then back, before grasping her buttocks. Kara gasped, becoming all too aware of her predicament. Lena Luthor was begging, asking, to be taken. But Lena Luthor also wasn't thinking clearly. The woman couldn't be. And Kara couldn't take advantage of that. 

Resolutely, she took a step back, but better saw the brunette's greenish or blueish eyes in the sunlight. Perhaps they were gray. They were a blend of colors regardless. She also saw the woman's strong yet feminine features starkly etched. An odd feeling, one she'd never had until this very moment, took her over and she was briefly paralyzed by the rush of excitement that flowed through her. Still, she had a code, honor, to abide by. She would turn Lena down gently, and leave.   

But Lena grabbed her face and pressed their lips together. And although Lena's lips were luscious and tender, they burned with a flame that warmed her entire body. Her eyes fluttered closed and the power of Lena's grip on her, the taste of alcohol on the brunette's tongue, the firm press of breasts against hers made her very attune to the fact that this was a strong, vibrant woman with a will of steel, that Lena was treating her like being with her was a decision that had been made from the moment she'd entered the home, and that Lena's life depended on being with her. Her mind jumbled as Lena slightly drew back, and she had a fleeting thought that she might pass out from the way Lena was looking at her. During this silent moment, she made an effort to halt the wild jolt that gripped her. 

"You don't know what you're doing. I should take my leave," she said.

Lena's face took on a frown. "You don't find me attractive?"

Kara stared at her, perplexed. How could anyone not find this woman attractive? She blushed deeply. "I do, but you've drank too much, and you've appeared to be having some type of hallucination. Uh-earlier, I mean," she stuttered.

Lena's features schooled into contentment, and she pulled Kara closer to her, by the waist. Kara didn't know how to respond, fists clutching and unclutching near Lena's sides.

"Just one more kiss," the brunette murmured near her ear and brushed light kisses along her throat, "then I may be willing to part with you."

Kara wanted to curse the woman. How dare anyone in such a state of mind demand anything? But she felt herself come full against the soft flesh, oblivious to the massive effect her well-built body had on Lena until she saw the woman shiver. Lena's arms crushed her to shapely curves, and the brunette's mouth twisted across hers, invading, demanding, dominating hers with a carnal, languid meticulousness. Lena's hand moved to slide into her long locks while wanton lips eagerly lavished hers. It seemed as though Lena relished in the feel of her hair, the thrilling pressure of breasts against breasts. It was as though Lena couldn't get enough of her.        

Kara's mind staggered from the rousing elixir of the brunette's fervent kiss. The way her legs threatened to give out from under her was a testament to its effectiveness. Lena's head lifted, and a plump tongue slowly grazed along her parted lips, then entered in search of an equally plump tongue. The smell of alcohol reminded her that Lena was also under the influence of an elixir, and she began to think that the woman would soon be too tired to continue soon. This kiss would be enough, she concluded. So she indulged just a little longer.

Lena's grip loosened and Kara almost felt herself stumble. The brunette's lips grazed her earlobe and then met passionately against her throat. She moved slightly, and quickly realized that Lena's hands her were at her thighs, pulling up her dress. One hand gripped tanned flesh and lifted a thigh onto a pale hip, and the other snaked around her waist to rest at the hollow of her back.

Sanity returned to Kara. She grabbed at Lena's hand on her thigh and moved it away, holding it tightly as she dropped her leg back to the floor. Her other hand moved to grab Lena's grip on her back, but she wasn't quick enough. The brunette's hand moved upward and cupped her breast, long fingers teasing the hardened bud beneath the cloth as the brunette's head dipped downward toward it.

Gasping, Kara mustered all of her strength to step back and hold the woman's hands in hers. She released one hand to point a finger at the brunette as though she were scolding a stubborn child. "Now, listen here... I don't know what kind of person you think I am to ravish someone in the kind of state you're in, but I won't do it."

A semi-frown, semi-smile graced Lena's features. "I have no clue as to what kind of person you are, blond stranger. You say that I'm drunk and lacking my senses, but I feel that neither is true. What I do know is I have longed for something I have denied myself for as long as I can remember. And with you here, I no longer see the need to do so. Whatever business you have outside this room will wait. I will have you."

Lena lunged toward her and enveloped her quicker than she could think. They were on the bed in seconds. Kara shook with pleasure as her dress came up, and her bare thigh brushed against the wetness between Lena's legs. Growling, she rolled so that she was on top of the brunette. She tried to move backward, off the bed, but Lena grabbed her again and rolled so that she was now on the bottom. The woman straddled her waist while holding both arms above her head. A refined eyebrow arched. "Stay," the brunette softly demanded.

Kara knew she could push her off. Lena's strength was nothing compared to hers. The brief battling between them had been enough of a test in that regard. But Lena's head dipped, and through the straining fabric, the brunette's lips toyed hungrily with the soft peak of her breast. The tie that had held the dress together at the neck loosened, and the top of it fell downward, spilling the full splendor of her breasts before the woman. Lena's mouth was hot and moist and trailed molten kiss after molten kiss across her heaving mounds. Kara's breath temporarily ceased as a tongue lazily caressed her nipples. Thundering exhilaration flowed through her, and a sort of weakness to Lena's presence took over. 

Lena's head lifted slowly, and questioning eyes stared down into her eyes. "I want to know your name."

Kara shook her head in protest. "You needn't know my name."

"But I want to.

Something about the woman's tone and request presented Kara with an opportunity for escape. Although, again, she knew she should escape at any time, it was made difficult by Lena clinging to her like this. "But that's just it," she said. "After today, this will all be over. And sooner than later, I will forget you and move on. So you needn't know my name." 

Lena frowned, then glanced around as though she were looking for something. "Perhaps I can give you a parting gift to remember me by. At least for a couple of weeks, until I find you again." She turned back to Kara and a thought seemed to come to her. She latched onto Kara's throat and bit hard.

"You!" Kara strained against her. "Woman --"

"-- Lena," the brunette whispered, soothing the bite with her tongue before hovering her lips close to Kara's.

Kara didn't have to be told the she-devil's name. "Lena..."

"Please," Lena pleaded, moving off to lie on her back and pull Kara down on top of her.        

Kara felt herself drown in that plea and placed a kiss to Lena's cheek before slowly moving down the lithe body.

She lifted Lena's gown, spreading the brunette's legs bluntly, and touched the soft folds intimately with her tongue, intruding upon the privacy of the woman's flesh.

"Oh!" she heard Lena moan in a strangled voice, brow likely crinkling at that which probed with tender but persistent pressure at the tight, resisting flesh. She felt Lena tug beneath her and strain against her head, greedy fingers slipping into her long locks to her grasp at her scalp. 

As a surge of liquid moved to her loins, she imagined Lena feeling a sense of fullness as her tongue plunged deep within, tasting the brunette's own personal nectar. She didn't rush, but instead savored each moment. And as she did, a new sensation began to rise and expand within her, a sensation which she could neither satiate or reject. Lena's moans bombarded her senses. The pulsing heat of the woman warmed her. And she responded to the brunette's cries, and untamed and passionate hands rubbing and scraping at her scalp and shoulders in kind. Her hands gripped Lena's hips, pulling them closer, and she drank deeply, tongue playing and swirling, moving inward and outward, along the woman's folds, over every sensitive portion she could. She couldn't recall the exact moment that Lena began to move with her, bucking her hips in wild abandon, but it was beautiful all the same.

Lena arched against her and met her passion instinctively. Each thrust, now strong and hard, apparently brought Lena to a new level of pleasure, and she could feel the bliss with each one as it pulled her along and threatened to make her reach her edge without even being touched where she needed to be touched most. Lena reacted like she could take the woman no higher. But higher is exactly where she dared to take the brunette. She broke free of any and every mental restraint and made Lena soar to intolerable ecstasy, as indicated by the woman's trembling and jerking body and fevered whispers.  

The brunette's barely-there breath matched the pounding thunder of her heartbeat. They were two people merged in a whirlwind of infatuation, frenzy and exuberance. Their bodies and minds had joined in ways that touched them to the core and planted aspects of each other deep within, never to unburied.   

But something was wrong. The woman now pulling her up for a slow and sluggish kiss and wrapping arms around her was a stranger. Worse yet, the woman was an intoxicated stranger. The horrible truth that she had thrown away her scruples to bed the woman of her dreams hit her straight in the gut. It was too late to take back what she'd done. "Lena," she said, her breath mingling with the brunette's, feeling her passion quickly die down, to be replaced by extraordinary sorrow.

The weight of her misdeed submerged her. She was in a house she should have never been in, with a woman she should have never been with. She attempted to move away, but, Lena, sensing her need to withdraw, held her tighter and rejected any attempt to take away the closeness and warmth of their bodies.

Kara took in a deep breath, preparing herself to soldier past the lips that nibbled at her mouth and cheek. Lena's fingers ran through her long locks.

Finally, she pushed away from the woman and sat up on the edge of the bed. She pulled her dress back up over her chest and shoulders and secured it at the nape of her neck. She moved off the bed to stare out at the terrace, waiting for Lena to say anything, everything she already knew — that all of this had been a mistake. 

When no words came, she whirled toward the bed with her eyes closed. "Lena, I'm sorry," she breathed.

Lena didn't respond.

She opened her eyes to find the woman sound asleep, the steady rise and fall of her chest indicating her slumber. Either the brunette was as tired as Kara had perceived her to be or their intimate time together just moments ago hadn't meant nearly as much to Lena. If not about tiredness and it had meant anything to her, could the woman have gone to sleep as casually and dismissively as that? 

Sighing, Kara decided it didn't matter. She went to Lena and covered her with the coverlet. The brunette muttered something before turning on her side in her slumber. 

No, it didn't matter, Kara silently repeated. She would erase any trace of ever having been here. She would anonymously call a doctor to check in on Lena. And she would move out of this godforsaken neighborhood.

She looked at Lena one last time after having cleaned up everything. Some might say that it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. Men she'd overheard had said it was better to have had a woman than to have lost her. But she didn't know. She'd loved, had, and now lost Lena. And each feeling was excruciating enough to remain with her forever.

She didn't know if it could have been different. And now she never would.

She exited the room. And subsequently exited out of Lena Luthor's life.    

 

 

       

 

 

 

 

 

 

            

 

**Author's Note:**

> My comments on the story: Personally, thinking of this as dubious consent is difficult for me because I don't write such material (until now, going by one's view of it anyway), and because Lena (by the time they were having sex) had more than enough of her mental faculties to know what was going on, which is why I'm a bit uncertain about labeling the fic "dubcon" (despite some definitions saying that a story can also be dubcon if the POV character is unclear about their lover's consent). There's also the fact that I know how the rest of the story plays out in my head. But a sober person having sex with a drunk person, no matter how well they can hold their liquor, is enough of an issue and gray area for Kara to feel guilty/devastated about. Thus, the "mildly dubious consent" tag. This story was meant to be grim and reflect poor decisions and the consequences of them. Whether or not Kara sleeping with Lena is a poor decision, however, is meant to be left up to you, the readers, to decide. I thought about having Lena die at the end (when Kara is waiting for an answer), and having Kara discover that Lena had also taken pills (after Kara sees a box of them she'd missed earlier on). But, although I was tempted to do that because tragic endings can be wonderfully poignant and painfully beautiful, I decided against that very grim fate, considering that it shuts the door on readers who may wonder if the mysterious questions surrounding Lena ever get answered, and considering that it would shut the door on me ever continuing this story. If I ever do continue, I'll probably rename it. Kara leaving, never to be heard from again, while thinking she'd committed a heinous act felt somewhat off for me. But my mind kept telling me that she didn't know what else to do, that staying around and apologizing would have helped nothing in her eyes. 
> 
> Thanks again for reading and commenting. And if you want to debate the characters' decisions in the comments section (consent and all that), please do. This story is meant to inspire that kind of thought and talk.


End file.
